Charlotte and Jesse, strangers to me.
The sudden intrusion of the doorbell jump-started Charlotte's heart into a mad tattoo. Her hand jerked, spilling hot tea over her hand and the kitchen counter before she could stop herself. Charlotte could feel her entire body shake, as if she all she was was a heart pulsating erratically in the kitchen. The doorbell rang again and this time she managed not to flinch. Taking a breath - meant to be deep but the tightness in her chest made it shallow - she wiped the counter dry with shaking hands, the drumming contained now somewhat in her chest, no longer invading her senses or sense of self. With the cloth still in her hands, red and aching from the tea which still dripped from her fingers, Charlotte made her way to the front door
"Alright, spit it."
"What?"
Jesse eased himself down on the sofa beside Charlotte, who lay her pencil and sketchbook down on her lap. "You've been listening to that song for over an hour now, and staring at that sketch near as long."
Charlotte shifted uneasily. "I'm just thinking, that's all." She shrugged, then looked down at her hands. She could feel Jesse staring with his own special brand of demanding patience.
"Alright, spit it."
"What?"
Jesse eased himself down on the sofa beside Charlotte, who lay her pencil and sketchbook down on her lap. "You've been listening to that song for over an hour now, and staring at that sketch near as long."
Charlotte shifted uneasily. "I'm just thinking, that's all." She shrugged, then looked down at her hands. She could feel Jesse staring with his own special brand of demanding patience.